


Make a Wish

by Diana Williams (dkwilliams), dkwilliams



Series: Wishes & Dreams [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 14:18:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3123287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/Diana%20Williams, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/dkwilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape receives the gift of a wish, and decides to use that wish to give a special gift to his lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make a Wish

  
Snape should have known better than to look under the bed.

It wasn't that he _meant_ to look under the bed; it had been a last resort while looking for his missing cufflink. The one that had gone flying as his lover tore off his shirt the previous night, his usual patience worn down by the interruptions to their love life over the past week. Not that Snape was complaining: it was rare that his lover behaved in such a forceful and demanding manner, and Snape relished it when he did. It was just that those cufflinks were a treasured gift and he didn't want to lose them. Snape had looked everywhere else in the room and had finally gotten down on his hands and knees to look under the bed, and that's when he had seen it.

At first glance, it appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary cardboard box, the kind Muggles kept shoes in. Nothing unusual about that at all, except that it was under Snape's bed. That, and the fact that it was covered with the most gaudy wrapping paper he had ever seen in his life. And considering how many birthday presents he'd received from Albus Dumbledore since he'd started teaching at Hogwarts twenty-two years ago, that was saying a lot.

It was also, he noted as he sat in the middle of the bed with his missing cufflink in one hand and the box in the other, surprisingly dust-free. So either the house elves were over zealous in their cleaning, or this box had recently been placed under the bed. Which meant it was a birthday present - even though he had _specifically_ told Albus that he didn't wish to celebrate his forty-third birthday. (The memories of the party Dumbledore had thrown for his fortieth were still enough to make Snape shudder.) Once again, the Headmaster had disregarded his wishes.

Snape sighed and opened the card attached to the box. The message was surprisingly brief and he read it over three times, frowning as he did.

_To live out a fantasy, simply make a wish and blow out the candle.  
To return, say the words 'there's no place like home'_

What on earth? he wondered as he untied the ribbon and opened the box. Inside, he found a small glass bowl filled with rainbow colored wax. He removed the silver candlesnuffer covering the wick and was startled when the wick burst into flame.

"Albus, what are you up to now?" he muttered to himself and looked at the note again. With a sigh, not believing he was actually doing this, he said, "I wish that just once Harry-bloody-Potter had missed the Snitch," and blew out the candle.

Before he could draw another breath, he found himself sitting in the Staff section of the Quidditch stands. The wind was blowing sharply and he was glad that in this…vision or whatever it was, he had at least dressed properly. As it was, the chill air was making his ears tingle - or maybe it was that infernal noise the announcer was making.

"...And Harry Potter has spotted the snitch and he's diving for it! He's diving, he reaches and...he missed! Harry Potter has _missed_ the Snitch, and Draco Malfoy has caught it! Slytherin wins the match and the Cup!"

Snape's head abruptly swiveled towards the pitch and he snatched the Omniculars away from the person sitting next to him, setting them to replay. There, before his disbelieving eyes, was Harry Potter - who had left Hogwarts five years earlier - _missing_ the snitch and Malfoy holding the golden ball up in the air, one of his insufferable smirks on his face.

"No need to grab, my dear boy," Dumbledore's amused voice said in his ear. "I would have given them to you willingly."

Snape lowered the Omniculars and looked into the Headmaster's twinkling eyes. "Potter _missed_ ," he said in disbelief.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Dumbledore replied, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well, of course," Snape replied without thinking, and then stared suspiciously at Dumbledore. "How did you know that?"

Blue eyes twinkled at him. "Why, Severus, don't you know by now that I know _everything_?" Dumbledore touched his hand affectionately and said, "And now, dear boy, I believe that there is no place like home."

A wave of dizziness swept over Snape and he found himself sitting on his bed again, the extinguished candle still clutched between his hands. His shaking hands, he realized, and he set the bowl down on the bed.

It had worked.

_And he had wasted his bloody wish on a Quidditch match!_

Unless...Snape placed the candlesnuffer over the wick again, waited a moment, then removed it. Once more, the candle burst into flame, and his heart began hammering as he stared down into it and dared to believe it might work. Closing his eyes tightly, he whispered his wish, and blew out the candle...

And found himself sitting in Dumbledore's office, staring across the desk at the stunned Headmaster. A quick glance downward confirmed that he was wearing students' robes, and then he looked back over at Dumbledore again. He knew that expression, had seen it again and again in his nightmares for years, and knew that his wish had worked. He was back at that pivotal moment in his life, only this time he wasn't going to make the same mistake.

Dumbledore blinked and seemed to recover from his shock. He sighed a little and leaned forward, his kindest smile on his face. "Severus, my dear boy, I believe that you _think_ what you're telling me is the truth, but - "

"I know what you're going to say, Headmaster," Snape quickly interrupted. "I'm not too young to know my mind or my heart."

"You're _eighteen_ , Severus."

"And you're one hundred and twenty years older than me, yes, I know," Snape said impatiently. He took a deep breath to try to regain his poise. It wouldn't do to let Dumbledore goad him into losing his temper like last time. "That doesn't matter to me."

"It matters to many," Dumbledore said seriously. "The Board of Governors might have something to say, should I indulge in a romantic interlude with a student young enough to be my - "

"Don't say it," Snape said fiercely. "I don't think of you as a father, or a grandfather, or a great-great-grandfather. A mentor, yes, but it's more than that. I'm in love with you."

"Severus..."

"I'm of age and I am _not_ your student, as of four hours ago," Snape continued. "There's nothing that says you can't have a relationship with a _former_ student. If anyone implies differently, I'm willing to testify under Veritaserum that _I_ made the first approach, and not until I had left school."

A smile twitched Dumbledore's lips. "You're justifiably proud of your potion discovery, Severus, but the Ministry might not quite agree."

"It's none of their damn business, Headmaster," Snape pointed out. "All that matters is what you and I feel, and I _love_ you."

"And you believe that I love you?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

Snape sighed and slumped back in his chair. "I don't know," he said honestly. He'd never been sure, back then, if the warmth in the Headmaster's eyes when they rested on him during those last few months had really been there or if he'd imagined it because he'd wanted so desperately to believe. "I know you care about me, as you  
care about all your students, and I think you could come to love me, in time."

Dumbledore gave him one of his gentle smiles. "I _do_ care, Severus. You're right about that. But as for the other..."

Snape seized on the slight chink in Dumbledore's armor. "We could give it a chance, couldn't we? I start my apprenticeship with Professor Digitalia in the fall, but I could stay here over the summer. The Professor would be glad to have someone help her with the potions for Poppy and preparing for next term. We'd have time to talk, to get to know each other."

"Isn't your family expecting you home for the summer?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Snape took a deep breath and decided to play his trump card. It was deliberate manipulation - he knew only too well how Dumbledore would react - but he wasn't going to lose this time. "My father plans to present me to the Dark Lord at the next Death Eater meeting," he said baldly. "By this time next month, I'll be wearing the Dark Mark."

Dumbledore froze and Snape felt sharp blue eyes probing him, verifying the validity of his statement. A rueful smile tugged at Snape's mouth; Dumbledore had never needed Veritaserum to determine if someone was lying to him. But he knew that the Headmaster would only see truth in his eyes, and he also knew that the man would do anything in his power to save one of his students from Voldemort.

"I suppose you _could_ remain here over the summer," Dumbledore said slowly. "We could say it was a condition of your apprenticeship."

"And the other?" Snape pressed. It was no good remaining here over the summer if he had no hope of persuading Dumbledore to become his lover. It would tear him apart to be so close and yet so far.

Dumbledore sighed. "While I would be delighted to get to know you better as two adults instead of Headmaster and student, I am reluctant to offer any kind of encouragement that I might discover romantic feelings for you."

It wasn't working. Dumbledore was turning him away, just like last time, and he'd end up in Voldemort's clutches again. "Kiss me," Snape said desperately.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Kiss me," Snape said, feeling more confident. After all, it had worked last time, albeit twenty years in the future, after Snape had nearly died during the final battle against Voldemort. "If you don't feel anything for me when you kiss me, then I'll accept your decision and I won't mention it again."

"One kiss," Dumbledore said cautiously. Snape nodded and Dumbledore sighed, then stood up. "Very well."

Snape realized he was shaking slightly and wiped his sweaty palms against his robes as he stood and moved around the desk to stand before Dumbledore. They were of the same height now although Snape would grow a few inches taller over the next few years, and it was easy to step close enough to align their mouths for the kiss. Snape clutched his robes in his hands to keep from grabbing Dumbledore in his eagerness, and as he pressed his lips against the Headmaster's, he put every bit of the love and longing he felt for this man into his kiss.

It wasn't precisely the same as the first kiss they'd shared in the real world. For one thing, Snape wasn't lying flat on his back in the infirmary and Dumbledore wasn't worn out with grief and worry. However, the same spark was there, that incredible burst of magic that had run through his veins and made his toes tingle. He knew that Dumbledore had felt it too when he heard the Headmaster gasp, and he used the opportunity to thrust his tongue into his future lover's mouth and deepen the kiss.

Dumbledore's arms wrapped around Snape, pulling their bodies tightly together, and Snape released his hold on his own robes so that he could latch onto his lover. It was good, it was better than good, it was incredible and who needed to breathe? He was only aware that he was whimpering when Dumbledore gently broke the kiss and held him at not-quite-arms-length.

"Well," Dumbledore said, and Snape was pleased to realize that the Headmaster had lost his usual composure and was breathing just as heavily as he was. "It appears that I was mistaken. And," he added as his eyes twinkled at Snape, "if you say 'I told you so', I will turn you over my knee and spank you."

Snape smirked at Dumbledore, aware that his heart was singing in a way it hadn't since he was young. "Dominance games, Headmaster? Shouldn't we try regular sex first?"

Dumbledore laughed and shook his head with mock sternness at Snape. "I can see that I'm going to have my hands full with you," he teased. Then his expression sobered and he said, "Are you aware of what we just experienced, Severus?"

Snape nodded. "A magical bond." He'd looked up everything he could find on the subject after Dumbledore had kissed him in the infirmary, finally realizing why he'd been so strongly drawn to the older wizard for the past twenty years.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "You should also know that while it encourages us to be together, it doesn't compel. If you do not wish to continue..."

"Headmaster," Snape said, amused by how his lover's Gryffindorish honor required that he give Snape a way out. "If you'll remember, _I_ was the one who wanted this in the first place."

"So you did," Dumbledore said. "But that was before you knew that you could spend the next sixty years tied to an old man."

"I knew," Snape said quietly, reaching up to touch Dumbledore's hair, running his fingers through the white locks. He tugged the Headmaster closer, brushing his lips over his lover's and relishing the feel of the soft beard and mustache against his own clean-shaven skin. He inhaled deeply - Snape had always loved the scent of peppermint tea and lemon drops that clung to Dumbledore's beard and mouth, no matter how much he complained about them.

Suddenly he found himself crushed against Dumbledore's chest as the mouth of the most powerful wizard in the world devoured his own. It was a heady sensation - he had always been attracted to power - and he could feel his teenaged body rapidly hardening to the point of no return. He whimpered a protest even as he pressed closer against his lover, and he felt an obligingly firm hand press against the front of his robes. With a gasp and a shudder he exploded, jerking wildly for a few minutes as he spent his release, then he sagged in Dumbledore's arms and dropped his forehead to rest against his shoulder.

"Sorry," he muttered, feeling a hot flush of embarrassment across his cheeks.

Dumbledore chuckled softly and Snape shivered at the sound so close to his ear. "Nonsense, my dear boy. It's a compliment. I haven't had that effect on someone in longer than I can remember."

Snape snorted. "Don't give me that 'dotty-old-man' routine, Headmaster," he said, recognizing echoes of his older self in the sarcastic bite. "Your brain is twice as sharp as any of the rest of us, and you'll still be running rings around us when you're two hundred."

 _If I have anything to say about it_ , he silently added, as he mentally reviewed potions and ingredients that could prolong vitality. That was Voldemort's mistake - he had concentrated on prolonging years, not the inner fire and drive that kept a person young.

Dumbledore chuckled again and squeezed him, then loosened his hold. "And now, my dear Severus, I believe a shower and a change of clothing might be in order? I'll see you at dinner - "

Snape was suddenly seized by the overwhelming fear that, if he left now, Dumbledore would change his mind about pursuing a relationship with him, bond or not. Besides, there was no telling how long the fantasy would last. "No," he said, tightening his hold on Dumbledore. "You didn't get anything out of this yet."

"I assure you that I derived a great deal of pleasure - "

"That's not what I mean," Snape said, pulling away from Dumbledore in frustration. "I want you to fuck me."

Dumbledore frowned and Snape wondered if he'd pushed too far. "Severus," he said, and Snape winced at the stern tone in his voice. "In the first place, I prefer making love to fucking. And in the second - correct me if I'm wrong, but I haven't heard any rumors about you with anyone else. Are you a virgin?"

How to answer that? Snape wondered. He had memories of over twenty-five years of sexual experience, much of which would shock Dumbledore, but this body was untouched. It would be months before Voldemort would rip that away from him, as he had taken so much else.

"Yes," he said.

Dumbledore reached out to gently touch Snape's cheek. "My dear, are you certain?" Snape nodded silently, and Dumbledore held out his hand. "Then come to bed."

If he had been in his right mind, he would have sneered at how nervous he felt as he removed his clothes and climbed into the Headmaster's big bed. After all, he'd been stripping off and going to bed with Albus regularly for the past five years, and by this point there wasn't any part of him that his lover hadn't seen. But this was different somehow. This body was fresh and young, not scarred and ugly, and the room was full of light and warmth, not cold and dark like the dungeons.

More importantly, this was what he had always wanted to give Albus: the gift of himself before he had become tainted and bitter. And as with all gifts, he was uncertain whether it would be acceptable.

He should have known, of course, that Dumbledore's generous heart would never reject any gift, no matter how unworthy. (Heaven knew that the man had accepted the future him, worthless as he was.) Dumbledore's touches were tender and arousing, his kisses heady enough to make Snape's head spin. He couldn't hold back the slightly pained gasp as his lover breached and filled him - this body was tight and Dumbledore was no small man - but his lover soothed him and reassured him, rocking gently until he relaxed. And it was glorious to feel the delicious stretching of his virgin flesh, the fiery heat that raced through his untainted blood, the sweet suppleness of his young body as he was molded to his lover's need. His climax burst from him with such force, that for the first time in his life, he passed out.

* * *

When he floated back up from unconsciousness, he was aware of the warmth and the steady heartbeat under his ear, and he smiled. "Albus," he murmured sleepily.

There was a soft chuckle from above him. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to wake up."

Snape opened his eyes and realized that he was once more in the dungeon, stretched out on the bed in Dumbledore's arms, and said the first thing that came to his mind: "But I didn't say the return words."

Dumbledore's hand stroked his hair soothingly. "The device has a fail-safe. Should you lose consciousness inside the fantasy, the return is automatically triggered."

"Oh." Snape felt an unaccustomed flush on his cheeks as he wondered if Dumbledore knew what his fantasy had been, and he pushed himself into a sitting position. Dumbledore was watching him, an inscrutable look on his face, and Snape's flush deepened. Of _course_ he knew - Dumbledore knew _everything_.

"You know," Dumbledore said quietly, "you and Harry have the same way of making the hard lessons easy and the easy lessons hard."

Snape wanted to scowl at any comparison of himself and Potter, but instead he felt a rueful smile twist his lips. "It's a gift."

Dumbledore snorted. "It wasn't meant to be used like that, you know. You already suffer enough guilt for three men, Severus. You don't need to find ways to increase that."

Oddly enough, Snape felt lighter than he could ever remember feeling, as though he'd lost a heavy weight that had been holding him down for such a long time he'd even forgotten he carried it. _This_ was his Albus. The crinkles were more pronounced and there was pain in these blue eyes, but they were dear and familiar to him. _This_ was their time, not twenty-five years ago. If they'd become lovers back then, he would never have gone to Voldemort and returned as a spy - and so many lives would have been lost. And this Dumbledore needed him, needed _him_ in a way that his mentor so many years ago never had. When Dumbledore entered his dungeon rooms, he could tell with a glance just what kind of a day it had been and he knew just what to do to lighten the man's load, whether it be a caustic joke, an invitation to shag, a stiff glass of whisky, or a simple embrace.

Snape smiled and held out the candle. With a hint of his usual sarcasm, he said, "Then perhaps you had better show me how it's done."

"Right." Dumbledore uncovered the wick and said, "I wish that I were a pirate sailing the High Seas with Severus as my trusted first mate," and blew out the candle.

Immediately, Snape found himself standing on a very unsteady floor being slapped in the face by seawater and blown about by fierce winds. He latched onto the only solid thing he could see - one of the masts - and looked around. He spotted Dumbledore easily enough, resplendent in a scarlet jacket with a patch over one eye and a truly horrible hat perched atop his head. He was apparently trying to convince a brightly colored bird to sit upon his shoulder. Briskly, Snape said, "I think not. There's no place like home."

"Spoilsport," Dumbledore grumbled, seated back on the bed, and Snape smirked at him.

"I'll make it up to you, Albus. And _not_   with that thing - at least, not right now."

Dumbledore's eyes brightened. "Lemon flavored body paint?"

Snape sighed dramatically. "If you insist." He picked up the candle and covered it, then carefully set it on the night table. "Thank you, Albus. I really do like the gift."

"I was afraid when I saw what you had chosen for your fantasy..." Dumbledore hesitated, oddly appearing at a loss for words.

"I wanted you to be my first," Snape said quietly.

"Oh, Severus," Dumbledore said, reaching out to gently caress his cheek. "I am content to be your last. For the next fifty years, at least," he added with a twinkle. "If you can put up with a crotchety old man that long."

Snape covered Dumbeldore's hand with his own as he snorted. "Don't give me that 'old-man' routine, Albus. You'll still be chasing me around the bed when you're two hundred. I'll even let you catch me on occasion - if you're lucky."

" _Let_ me?" Snape wasn't at all surprised to find himself suddenly pinned under the surprisingly substantial strength of the greatest wizard of their time. "Perhaps I should remind you of a few things."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Dominance games, Headmaster? I'm beginning to understand the pirate fantasy now."

Dumbledore chuckled and sat up so that he was straddling Snape's thighs. "Avast there, Mr. Snape! Prepare to be boarded!" With nimble fingers, he began unbuttoning Snape's robes and shirt.

"Not the most seductive invitation I've ever received," Snape said dryly, hissing as fingernails accidentally - or deliberately - scraped over his nipples. "And that's the _last_ time I let Arthur Weasley take you to a Muggle movie, even with Potter as chaperone."

"Aye, but there's beauteous treasure buried here, me hearty," Dumbledore said as he peeled back the shirt to expose his lover's chest.

" _Don't_ lose the cufflinks. I had a hard enough time finding them after last night's little romp. Oh!" Snape moaned as a hot mouth surrounded one of his nipples, teasing and sucking at it while the beard and mustache tickled his skin.

"Like that, do you?" Dumbledore asked, thankfully abandoning his pirate role as he switched to the other nipple. Snape moaned and clutched his lover's head to his chest, carding through the flowing white hair as he came to a startling realization.

Albus was touching him in _exactly_ the same way he had touched the younger Severus, as if his bruised and battered body was no less precious than the clean and whole form of his younger self. Albus was looking down at him, love shining clear and bright in his eyes, visible even here in the dark of the dungeons. And it was the same way Albus had looked at him for years, only he had never allowed himself to believe.

A tear trickled out of the corner of his eye and Dumbledore paused in the act of binding his beard back with his hair so that it was out of way. "Dear heart, are you all right?" he asked, concerned.

Snape nodded his head as he viciously forced back the tears. "Fine," he managed to say. "I just...." He swallowed hard. "I love you, Albus."

Dumbledore smiled and leaned over to kiss him tenderly. "I know. I love you, too, Severus."

And for the second time that day, he writhed and sweated and moaned under his lover's expert touch as his body was filled as completely as his heart had been. All the while, candy-flavored kisses stole away his breath and his mind, until he was certain that climax would shatter him into a million pieces. And that was all right because he was with Albus, and Albus would put him back together again and wouldn't even mind if some of the pieces were damaged around the edges.

The End


End file.
